To Start Again
by Ramzes
Summary: You know, I kind of feel bad for what I did to Louis Weasley in Being Them. To rectify the situation, I decided to give him a romance.
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: I am not Jo. And I don't own the series. More's the pity…_

**The idea just came to me during one of the very few moments when I actually got the time to read my wh****ole Being Them story. I hope yo****u**** enjoy it!**

Chapter 1

"This poor girl, what is she going to do now?"

"I don't know, maybe have a life, just for a change?"

"Meagan!" The first voice sounded shocked.

The younger old woman didn't bat an eyelid. "Come on, Julia, you know that he had turned her all but a slave. Can you put your hand on your heart and tell me that she won't be better off without him?"

Rhea Walters could hear them pretty fine, but she didn't even have the strength to get angry. The last days of her father and then the arrangements for the funeral had left her so exhausted that she didn't even feel grief. The only thought in her head was to go to her bedroom, collapse on her bed and sleep for at least a week.

For the first week, she got her wish. There was no waking in the middle of the night because of a sudden worsening of her father's condition, no necessity to read to him aloud, while all she wanted to do was sleep, no running around Diagon-Alley with a whole list of things that her father needed urgently all of a sudden.

There was nothing at all.

It was strange to remember how badly she had wanted her freedom and realize that now, when she had it, it was of no use to her at all. Sure, the whims of an old, elderly man had been hard to live with, ut at least then Rhea's life had had some meaning. Now she was thirty-one and she knew nothing about life, nothing at all.

It was such a precipice that lay in front of her. And she was afraid. She could postpone it at least a little by sleeping off her grief and telling herself that she needed just another day before it started.

Then, one day she woke up by the rays of the rising sun and filled with sudden energy, she started checking the bills for the maintenance of the house, for her father's potions and medicines, for the last few months when the two of them had had no time to deal with calculations and living within their means.

The result left her speechless. She was worse off than she had previously thought. Far worse off. If she didn't find a way to fill the holes within her finances, she would have to move out of the house… soon.

_Well_, Rhea told herself, _I won't panic. I will find a solution. If I want to turn into a normal woman, it's time to get started anyway. And, by Merlin's name, I will become one – no matter what._

Her first action was to flip through the pages of all copies of Daily Prophet that she had not read during the last week. The first add caught her attention immediately – a small enterprise that was looking for… in the Muggle world, it would be called accountant. Rhea was good with numbers. She wasn't too sociable, she didn't know how to relate to people and she had certainly never worked a day in her life, but she was good with numbers. She had run her parents' finances for years and as they grew older and queerer, it was mainly due to her efforts that they had a house to live in and a budget relevant to their small income.

Rhea took a piece of parchment and wrote a few words. Crossing her fingers, she tied it to the leg of Mercury, the old owl, and let him fly.

The answer came in bare minutes. "Are you free to come around? Now?"

And that was how Rhea went into one of the intersections of Diagon-Alley – a small, quiet street with bushes and trees. The air smelled of snow and freshness and the white scene in front of her made her feel a strange surge of – renewal? No, that was not right. Renewal was for young girls, not colourless loners like her who didn't know how to live, let alone live _again_. Anyway, she felt more vital than she had in years. Her pace quickened, her face flushed with the nice effort, the cold and the pleasant feeling swelling inside her and the passers-by stopped staring at her as if she were some audacity – now, she had forgotten to feel out of place and people felt it.

She looked at every window display to make sure that she wouldn't miss the one she was looking for, but as soon as she saw it, she realized that she might as well have not bothered – there was no way to mistake _Glamour_ for anything else and there was practically no chance that she would miss it: the bright colours of the shop windows, the vials, lotions and potions, as well as fantastic clothes grabbed the attention of everyone. Inside, the space was bustling with consultant and visitors, all smiling and chatting. Rhea hesitated on the doorstep, unsure as where she should go now – there had been no room or name in the note delivered by the owl.

"Excuse me – " she addressed the woman who stood nearest to her. "I am looking for – "

The woman – a gorgeous black beauty in her late twenties, with carefully applied makeup and a professional smile, looked at her and immediately made up her mind. "Are you the accountant?"

"I – yes. I am looking for – "

"I'll take you," the woman interrupted and led her upstairs. "Isabelle mentioned that she was expecting you. I am Roxanne, by the way. Roxanne Anderson. If things turn out the way I hope, we'll be working together. I run this place along with my cousins, but unfortunately, we have no idea what to do with calculations and we're in desperate need of someone who knows."

"I understand," Rhea murmured, but the truth was, she didn't. How could anyone take the risk of starting business without knowing how to deal with money?"

Suddenly, Roxanne's professional smile was replaced by a wide grin. "No, you don't," she said, "but that's okay."

They reached a small room with a desk literally buried beneath piles of documents, and behind it sat the most beautiful woman who Rhea had seen in her life – with oval-shaped face, creamy skin and almost unnaturally big green eyes – the colour was so light, she has never seen such a shade in human eyes – and shingled hair that shines like pure silver. The woman was slender and graceful, her hands with perfect, but short manicure held the quill with the air of long practice and the impatience was evident on her face.

"Finally!" she exclaimed. "You are Rhea Walters, right?" Rhea nodded. "I am Isabelle Potter and I'm the one who contacted you. See what you can do with this stuff," she added and pointed at a frighteningly messy, but enormous pile of accounts, bills, and financial reports. "I'll be back after work-time and I'll see what you've done. Bye!"

With that, she Apparated away.

Rhea looked at Roxanne, but she merely shrugged. "No idea," she said simply. "My cousins, Dominique and Victoire, and I take care of the practical section – doing the procedures, providing the charms and spells, modeling the clothes, but we really are awful at keeping track of our money. Sometimes, Isabelle comes over to help, but she has a job of her own in Gringots. That's why we so desperately need you to help us keep our records in good order."

Rhea wanted to tell her that this mission was next to impossible. However, she did need the money and in the several hours that followed, she did her best to organize the records in the pile. First, she tried by the name of the person who had sent them, but there were just many people. Then, she had tried to sort them by colour… again, failed attempt. By date… that was a little better, bit not quite. Finally, enlightenment came to her and she divided the documents in three piles – one for the beauty parlour, another one for the clothes shop and the third one for the cafe – three enterprises that were divided under the logo _Glamour_. Now it was quite easier to check the financial reports and Rhea did it with fanatical devotion – she needed that job, although she certainly didn't need the comparison that she could not help but make between herself and the women who came in and out of the room. They were all young and while not all of them were as stunning as Isabelle Potter, they all looked young, well-groomed and free-spirited. Compared to them, Rhea felt second-classed, colourless, and just plain ordinary.

Anyway, they were all friendly, curious about the life of their possible future colleague and thrilled by the perspective of having someone who could tell them the exact date to expect their salaries. And they were chatty. By the afternoon, Rhea already knew everything about the recent founding of _Glamour_, about the most common beauty spells used in it – charms seemed to be overlooked here, – about the three women who ran the enterprise – Roxanne Anderson, Victoire Lupin, and Dominique Laurence, and what a cutie Dominique's daughter was, and how Dominique's second pregnancy progressed.

The woman in question was indeed pregnant – it was visible without effort. She was also quite excited by the perspective of hiring a full-time accountant and Rhea got the feeling that Dominique could hardly wait for Isabelle to come and pass her judgment.

How the women in this building could get anything dome, with all that noise and chatter, was beyond Rhea. At the end of her second hour here, she felt that her head might well explode any minute now.

But she needed the money.

Isabelle Potter entered at 5.15 p.m., as gorgeous and immaculate as she had left eight hours earlier. She smiled at Rhea and looked around, taking notice of the now stacked piles, some of which were even put into folders differing by their colour. She looked impressed. "I've always intended to sort them, but never quite got the time," she said and started checking Rhea's accounts.

Quite nervous, Rhea sat quietly, waiting for her judgment, but the beautiful fair face remained expressionless. Finally, Isabelle looked up. "I'll talk to the others," she said. "Would you mind waiting here just a tad longer?"

Somehow, Rhea managed to find her voice. "No, not at all," she said. But now it was impossible for her to keep a level head: if she didn't find a job, and soon, she might very well find herself homeless. She started pacing up and down the hallway, fighting the temptation to overhear magically the conversation in Dominique's office. She didn't have much experience with such spells, never having attended a magical school with peers to overhear, but she felt pretty sure that she could do it.

A young, red-haired man appeared from the staircase. He was holding a broom under his arm and he was smiling, as if he anticipated that something very nice would happen to him. Next to him walked a man his age, but dark-haired and green-eyed. They were chatting amiably and laughed softly from time to time.

When they passed past Rhea, the red-haired man looked at her. "Can I help you?" he asked. "You must be looking for the beauty parlour." The look he gave her left no doubt what he thought of her face and plain brown hair. "Or maybe the clothes shop?" he added, looking at her shapeless, billowing robe.

Feeling totally humiliated, Rhea ran down the hallway and then upstairs, while the door of Dominique's office burst open and Roxanne rushed out, crying, "Rhea, wait!"

The two men looked at her, confused. "What happened here?" James Potter asked.

"You just insulted the woman who we want to hire as an accountant, James," Roxanne snapped, "_that's_ what happened."

"Merlin!" James groaned. "I thought she was a customer."

Roxanne looked livid. "Do you really think you're going to save yourself by _this_ excuse?" she hissed and then decided that there was no need to feed the curiosity of their employees, who had started poking their heads through the doors to see what was going on. "Inside!" she ordered and marched her cousins in Dominique's office.

"James thought she was a customer," she explained shortly, when her cousin gave her a questioning look.

"You treat out customers this way?" Dominique asked. "By dropping hints about their looks?"

"I – I didn't mean – "

"I _know_ you didn't, James, but that doesn't matter. What matters is how she accepts it. She's different and I think you really hurt her feelings."

"I didn't think – "

"You always say the nicest things, James," Al said. "No wonder it took you forever to win Jillian."

6


	2. Chapter 2

_Disclaimer: I don't own HP and I never will._

**Thanks to the three people who reviewed the first chapter: Whoopsy Daisy. Dodger Gilmore and JJ Rust.**

Chapter 2

_Early the next morning…_

The constant knocking really innerved Rhea, while she was walking through the hallway to answer the door. She knew for sure that there was no one who'd like to visit her, especially this early. Really, they could have waited to start pounding on the wrong door until normal people had had their morning coffee.

"I'm here! I'm coming!" she yelled, to be heard over the pounding. Unfortunately, she wasn't.

She opened the door and the instinct made her jump aside, before the hand of Roxanne Anderson, who was just reaching for a new knock, could hit her fully in the face. "You?!"

Even this early – it was barely eight o'clock – the other woman was shining like a sunray. She wore a stunning yellow dress that made her skin glow, her skin was sweet with some floral perfume, and her apologetic smile revealed that she was fully awake.

"May I come in?"

"Oh! Yes…" Rhea started. "Of course."

She led her visitor through the corridor and in the living room. Roxanne gave her surroundings a curious look that she tried to make as discreet as possible. She was stricken at how old the furniture was. Oh, it was immaculately kept, but she had the feeling that she had been transported by a Time-Turner in the era immediately after Grundewalt's fall. Big sofas, armchairs with curved arms and plumped pillows, old-fashioned carpet, heavy furniture of dark wood with many cupboards. Even her grandparents' home was furnished more up-to-date. Besides, the Burrow always gave one the feeling of comfort, of being inhabited, of being loved, of being home. Here, there was nothing like this. If not for the pitcher of coffee and the half-drained cup, the living room could have been exposed in a furniture shop in the middle of the 20th century. _Oh, and for the Daily Prophet, opened on the page with job positions._

"Have a seat," Rhea invited.

Roxanne did so.

"Do you want coffee?" Rhea asked.

Roxanne was tempted, but shook her head. She had already drunk one cup and, as much as she loved coffee, for the last few months a second cup of it so soon after the first one brought her stomachache.

"I'm sorry for pounding on your door like a thunderstorm," she said. "When I've had to wake up early in the morning, I have no patience. My brother says it's just my revenge on people, making them feel as miserable as I am – I am not a morning person, really."

"You have a brother?" Rhea asked politely.

Roxanne gave her a curious look. It wasn't so often that she would come across someone who didn't know anything about her family. Usually, people knew too much for her liking.

"I do. And cousins. A whole crowd of them. Then, they all grew up and started getting married and bringing new people into the family and I totally lost their count. The last one was my cousin Al – he married Isabelle not even a year ago and I immediately acquired an almost grown nephew – her little boy from her previous marriage."

Roxanne's chatter was meant to ease her hostess' obvious nervousness, but judging by Rhea's expression, it had little – if any at all – success. "Do you have any siblings?" Roxanne tried again.

"No, I don't."

It just wasn't working. Roxanne realized that she had no choice but delve straight into the matter. "Yesterday, you left too early, before hearing what decision we had made."

Rhea raised her head and looked straight into her visitor's deep dark eyes. "Your cousin was clear what he thought about me."

_No excuses on James' behalf, _Roxanne decided immediately._ That'll only make her feel more humiliated and she obviously does have her pride._ "My cousin," she said instead, "does not run _Glamour_. We do. And before you left, we were going to tell you that we wanted to hire you."

Rhea's eyes lit up. "Really?"

Roxanne smiled slightly. "Would I be here in this moment, if we weren't serious? We want to hire you, Rhea. Temporarily, for a while, for which period you, of course, will be paid and then, if things go well, we'll take you permanently." She named a payment that almost made Rhea's eyes bulge out.

_Merlin_, she thought, _they must be really desperate_.

She hesitated. The thought of going back in the building where she had been so humiliated was unbearable for her. Even worse was the fact that between all these attractive, lively women there she would feel her own difference only too acutely. But she could not spend her whole life hiding in this house which she wouldn't be able to keep for long if she didn't find a job anyway. If she was going to start living, she'd better start now, when she was still in her thirties, than waiting to become an old woman.

"When should I start?"

Roxanne smiled. "Now. Today."

"I'm afraid it isn't possible," Rhea said with sudden finality. "Tomorrow would be fine, but today, I really cannot."

Roxanne could see nothing to be keeping Rhea Walters here, but she did not comment. "Of course."

Rhea slowly exhaled. She was glad that now she would have the time to buy a dress before she went for her first day as a working woman. There was no way she would continue wearing the old-fashioned robes that her mother had dressed her in. Not when she would be surrounded by glamorous people like Roxanne, her cousins and their employees.

Roxanne looked around and something in the modest surroundings made her take a decision that would surely get Isabelle close to killing her – she always said that their finances were quite unstable and should be properly taken care of for at least nine months, until the investments they'd made for the business started paying off. She rummaged through her purse and put twelve Galleons on the table. "That's for you," she said.

"I can't accept – "

"How much money do you have now?" Roxanne asked. "Be honest with me."

"Three Galleons."

"Then take this as an advance payment."

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

_Half an hour later…_

Roxanne was walking quickly in Diagon Alley when a strong arm grabbed her from behind. She gave a startled squeak, before realizing that the arm was actually enveloping her in a hug. "Hello, beauty," someone said in her ear and she felt her face melting into a huge grin. She turned around.

"Louis!" she exclaimed. "We weren't expecting you for yet – how many? Ah yes, at least two weeks."

He smiled and nodded. "I couldn't wait more. There was an opportunity for me to come home earlier and I grasped it."

Not that he had been miserable or anything. For Louis Weasley, the last seven months had been an experience that he would never forget. He'd been soaked wet, listless with heat, frozen, bitten and stung – all that while he had been examining the magical creatures in the jungles of South America.

He had earned every Knut of the payment he had been given for this study and hoped that he would gain more by publishing more articles and documents with the material that he had gained.

But it had not been only the money. He had loved being near the creatures, examining and admiring them. Every strained muscle had been worth it, just for the sight of them.

But now he was home and glad of it.

"I intended to go and see Arthur first – I suppose he's with Grandma? I know my parents are at work."

Roxanne nodded and Louis smiled again. He knew that his seven years old son couldn't be in better hands.

"Anyway, the Portkey left me here, at the corner, and I decided that since I was here anyway, I'd love to see how that company of yours has worked out. Lead the way. Are Dom and Vicki there?"

"I think so," his cousin said and really led the way.

"How are you?" Louis asked. He didn't want to say that he found her too thin and somewhat tired.

She flashed him a smile.

"Very well."

"I'm glad to hear it."

He whistled at the sight of the window screen. "Oh you've definitely worked a lot. It'd very nice here."

"It's even nicer inside. "Roxanne smiled and pulled at his hand. "Come on, let me show you to everyone! They'll be so happy."

As they approached Victoire's office, her voice came from the inside, "Shrink!" she said. "Shrink immediately."

There was no answer. Startled, Louis looked at his cousin. "What – " he started.

"Just watch," Roxanne told him, but she was smiling in this secretive way of hers, as if she knew something that he still didn't. "Watch," she repeated. "I guarantee that it be worth it."

She pushed the door slightly ajar and Louis peeked inside. He gagged at the sight of his sister standing atop of a chair and shaking her finger in the face of her sixteen years old son – the Metamorphmagus Alan, who had obviously refused to shrink, thus encouraging his mother to stand on the chair, so she could look at him from above while scolding him. In her hand, she held a Hogwarts letter and brandished it like a sword.

"Er – hello?" Louis ventured.

"Louis!" Victoire shrieked and immediately leapt at him to hug and kiss him. Alan was obviously delighted to see his uncle, too, and the fact that his mother had temporarily forgotten that she was mad at him made his pleasure even greater. Louis told them a few things about South America, "You should really go and see for yourself," he ended. "I – "

"Louis!" Dominique cried from the door and rushed at him. He looked at her and the joy in his eyes was quickly replaced by a moment of concern: he had noticed that she was pregnant. He recovered almost immediately and smiled at her.

"How have you been?" she asked excitedly.

"It was wonderful," he replied and she smiled wryly, noticing a big, fading scar of stinging on his left palm.

"Yeah, I have no doubt that it was."

"You seem to have had interesting time here, too," he noticed and looked pointedly at her rounded stomach.

Dominique blushed. "Well, I – "

"Congratulations," Louis said and then added more softly, "How are you?"

"I'm fine," she assured him. "I'm very well."

He nodded, but she could see that he did not seem particularly relieved. She fully understood – he was happy for her, but seven years ago, his wife had also looked and felt very well – until the very day when she had died in St. Mungo's due to complications caused by her pregnancy. That was the reason Dominique had chosen not to tell him about her condition while he had been abroad – he would have worried ceaselessly. Now, he would do the same thing here until the day the baby was born and both it and she were declared well and healthy.

7


	3. Chapter 3

_Disclaimer: Everything you recognize belongs to the one and only Jo._

**Thanks for your lovely reviews and sorry for having disappeared for a week or so. But now I'm back.**

Chapter 3

_Two weeks later…_

The advance payment that Roxanne Anderson had given her was well deserved, maybe even not enough. Rhea had been suspecting it would be so for days, but she was now absolutely sure of that. Even her first day here had not prepared her for the real degree of the mess in _Glamour_. It was amazing how much havoc three women could do to their own finances. No wonder that Isabelle Potter had been so desperate to find someone to work on full day. The poor woman had done her best to keep their heads above the water, but she had had only so many hours per day and there had been only one of her against three of them squanderers.

No, that was not fair. Roxanne, Victoire, and Dominique were not negligent or spoilt, or anything – in fact, they were very serious about their business and set on it. They were just creative and had no head for finances, that was it. It was just like Rhea's sense of style, or the lack thereof.

Anyway, the result was still the same – their finances were a mess and Rhea was expected to keep the record straight. She supposed she could do it – if she lived to _set_ it straight, that was it. But after two weeks, she was starting to think that _maybe_ she could make it. According to her calculations, two more weeks should do the feat.

"Hey, Rhea, do you want coffee?" Athena Ravenscar asked.

"No, thanks. If I drink coffee this late, I won't be able to sleep all night."

"Well, I'm going to have one," her colleague muttered and decided that sometimes, Rhea could be a real freak. Thankfully, she was a _good_ freak. Athena might have shared her office with someone who was far worse than Rhea. Although Athena was twenty-two and very lively; she designed purses and other accessories for their lady clients; and Rhea was thirty- one and set on her boring accounts and yet, they got along fabulously for the most part. If only Rhea would get rid of her awful hairstyle and robes that did not suit her at all… Well, when they got closer, Athena would take care of that. She wanted her new possible friend to look as good as possible.

She rose and went to the door to fetch a coffee from downstairs, when she saw the familiar figure of Ted Lupin striding down the corridor, with an excited looking Dominique at his side. "Ted!" she squealed and ran to him, hungry for news. Everyone in _Glamour_ knew that Victoire's husband was about to get a promotion, but it was not a sure thing and she wanted to see whether –

"You got it!" she squealed again. The expression on his face told her clearly what had happened.

"Hush!" he warned her in a hurried whisper. "You'll spoil my surprise."

"Oh!" She made a gesture, as if she was closing her lips locked. Then, she hugged him. "Congratulations."

"Thank you. Oh, hi, Rhea," Ted added, looking at the woman standing next to the door.

"Hello," she answered. Ted Lupin made her nervous – she didn't know how to behave in men's company. She was starting to relax near women, being among them every day, but there were few men working in _Glamour_.

He felt her uneasiness and turned back to Athena and Dominique. "Would you mind if I took Victoire earlier today?"

"No, not at all," Dominique answered, smiling brightly.

"But I have to discuss the price of her new – ouch!" Rhea groaned and stared at Athena in disbelief. No one in her life had ever stepped on her foot – until now.

"Sure, Ted. No problem at all," the girl assured him and shot Rhea a warning look. Dominique almost laughed at the little display.

"If only you see the present he bought her – " she started in a conspiratorial whisper.

Athena was hooked immediately. "What! What is it?"

Ted sighed resignedly. "Only, be careful not to let Victoire see it," he warned and followed them in Athena and Rhea's office. He gave Athena a small velvet box and she lifted the lid.

"Oh!" she gasped. "It's the most beautiful necklace I've ever seen in my life." She pressed her palm to her heart. "Victoire will fall in love with it."

Ted sat on top of her desk and looked at the necklace for what was maybe the twentieth time since he had bought it. "Do you think so?"

"There isn't a woman to receive something like that and not realize that she's adored. Oh, just look at the light reflecting in these stones!"

Rhea had not come closet to look at the jewel – she didn't feel it was her place to do so, - but she looked at Ted's grin while he stared at the necklace and suddenly she realized that this man was madly in love with the woman that he had been married to for almost twenty years.

_How does it happen?_ she asked herself. _How can two people still love each other after having lived together for more years than not?_

Had it been the same way for her parents? Surely. It must have been. Or maybe not.

Maybe it was the beauty. Victoire was so beautiful that surely no man could not do anything but love her.

She sighed and brought her attention back to her calculations.

Later, she saw them leaving. Victoire wore her black coat and a small hat that left a single lock of her silver hair fall on the coat in striking contrast with its rich darkness. This time, Victoire looked even more stunning than usual, because her eyes were shining with joy. Her hand rested in Ted's and she was talking to him animatedly, staring at his eyes. He smiled and answered, and looking at the two of them, Rhea felt a similar reaction to the others that she had experiences in the past at seeing something especially beautiful, desirable and absolutely out of her reach. Something like dull, but persistent longing.

"Have a nice time!" Dominique called after them. "Come on! I must show you something." she told Rhea and Athena. They followed her to her office, where Roxanne was circling around a big box, wrapped in purple paper that was so bright that it almost hurt one's eyes to look at it.

"It seems that we've got a new security measure," she proclaimed, but she didn't look too happy about it. "Some Anti-Enemy device. My Dad sent it from Africa."

_Of course_. Rhea knew that George Weasley and his wife had gone to a world tour, but that did not explain Roxanne's attitude, or Dominique's concern. Now even Athena looked concerned.

"Well?" Rhea asked after a while. "Are you going to open it or not?"

Roxanne hesitated. "No," she said finally, firmly.

Rhea blinked. "Come on," she said impatiently, "it can't be this bad. Your father wouldn't send you something dangerous, now, would he?"

"Oh yes," Dominique answered grimly, "he would, why not? He's just the one to do it. Not that he would do it deliberately, of course. He's just unable to make a distinction between what's funny and what's plainly dangerous. He's worse than Fred."

Now, that kept Rhea to her toes. She had known Fred Weasley for two weeks only, but she knew him enough to know that whoever was worse in him in joking direction was a force to be reckoned with. She looked at the purple package with deep suspicion.

Anyway, they were four grown women. They couldn't keep just circling around that thing, being _afraid_ of it. She took a deep breath. "Well," she proclaimed, "I'm opening it."

The other three took their wands out, should they need intervene. Rhea pointed her own wand at the package –

- only to find out that it held a small stick that did not quite look like a wand.

"That's it?" Roxanne sounded – disappointed? "That's the best Dad could think of?"

"Seems like it," Rhea muttered, feeling incredibly stupid. "I'm going back to work," she announced.

"And take this stupid thing with you," Dominique said disgusted, tossed the stick at her and went to calm down her nerves with strawberries. Lots of strawberries. In the middle of January. There was a speculation in _Glamour_ that her baby would be born bright red and round.

Rhea caught the stick and went out, calculating that she would need to stay after working time. Again. But there was nobody waiting for her at home anyway.

But she soon came to regret her decision, when she heard footsteps climbing upstairs. Everybody else had gone home and she was alone in the building at – oh Merlin, could it be nine o'clock already? The earlier conversation with Roxanne came to her mind and it was not hard at all to convince herself that it was a thief barging in the store.

Her first thought was to hide under her desk, but – _I'll be damned if I let someone ransack this place while I'm still here_, she thought and with her wand ready in one hand and the stick that George Weasley had sent them – not that there was any use of this thing, but still! – Rhea crept out of the room.

In the hallway, she calculated that the intruder must be at the middle of the stairs, judging by the sound of his steps. She knew this place better than him, so she hurried down the corridor and cried, "_Lumos_!"

"Oh, thank Merlin," the newcomer said. He was a silver-haired man in his thirties, tall and handsome – and not bothered to be caught here at all. His hands were occupied by two big bags and he was blinking against the light.

"Hands down!" Rhea ordered, pointing the wand and the stick at him.

"What's going on?" he asked. "Who are you?"

"Who are _you_?" she countered. "I said, hands down!"

She barely had the time to think that he was a very strange thief, to commit a burglary while carrying big grocery bags, before she heard a familiar voice. "Who is – Rhea?"

"Dominique?"

In the light of her wand, Rhea saw her employer climbing up the stairs. "You're with him, so he isn't a thief?"

"A thief?" Dominique asked blankly. "What thief?"

"Please," the man said, "would you put this thing down?"

He was staring not at Rhea's wand, still pointed at his heart, but at the stick in her other hand.

She looked at it. "Oh, don't be silly. It isn't even danger – "

BOOM!

The man dumped the bags and jumped aside on the stair, dragging Dominique along. The red flame went right past them and crashed into the picture on the wall, burning it to ambers.

Three minutes later, the three of them were in Dominique's office. The man – Dominique's _brother_ – poured two glasses of some Muggle stuff that Rhea had never tasted before and that burned her throat, but both Dominique and Louis had promised that it would help her calm down.

"I didn't even know it was dangerous," she apologized for fourth time.

He shook his head. "It's an African weapon and you didn't think it was dangerous?" he asked.

"It looked harmless at the time," Dominique said defensively.

"_Of course_ it would look harmless! There was no fear and animosity to activate it."

"Yes, but we – "

"And anyway, couldn't you say that I wasn't hiding?" he asked Rhea. "Merlin, I walked so noisily that I could wake up a sleeping dragon!"

"Even thieves can be clumsy!" she defended herself. "Oh stop it! I almost became a murderer."

Louis stared at her, then looked at his sister, who was rummaging through the grocery bags that they had brought for the next day, hoping to find a few surviving strawberries. And laughed. "Did you hear her?" he asked. "Did you? She almost became a murderer! And what would have _I _become?"

Dominique laughed too and in a minute, Rhea heard her own voice joining in their mirth.

"I didn't think of that," she admitted.

"Anyone want strawberries?" Dominique asked.

Louis shook his head. "I must go and I advise the two of you to do the same. Dom, Robert and Maddie are waiting for you at home."

"It must be very nice," Rhea muttered. "To have something wait for you at home."

Louis looked at her and thought of Arthur, who would want to hear all the details about his father almost being murdered, and how excited he would be, and how he would brag in front of everyone, still not realizing that Louis might have died for real. "Yes," he agreed. "It's nice to have someone waiting for you at home."


	4. Chapter 4

_Disclaimer: All belongs to Jo._

**Thanks for all your reviews, favorites and alerts.**

**WARNING: There will be domestic violence in this chapter. I didn't plan it, but I can't help it – I'm too furious to do otherwise. Right now the whole society in my country is sympathetic to a man who is, in fact, a criminal, but they think him a hero just because he produced a real soap opera for the TV. A dramatic reportage, wails and dramas in the street, internet petitions, the Parliament dealing with the problem, what the hell will be next? Yesterday, I witnessed the most ridiculous protest in front of the Embassy of Poland. Two hundred idiots protested against a legal decision of the Polish court that had been confirmed twice by the Bulgarian court just because of a jester who thinks himself above the law, kidnaps and brainwashes his kids and turns his family drama into a soap opera that can be followed by the whole nation each time we turn our TVs on. **

Chapter 4

_The next day…_

Ever since she had started working here, Rhea had realized that the office that she shared with Athena had long ago become a place for meetings for the girls who worked on the other floors. It had started with them dropping for a while to keep Athena company for a few minutes and it hadn't stopped after she had gained a new colleague in the office. Rhea worked like a machine, but she wasn't confident enough to give them a reproachful look if they happened to stay here longer, discussing things that had nothing to do with work. After a while, she had learned to ignore them.

Not today, though.

The moment Rhea walked in _Glamour_, she fell under a mass attack – everyone wanted to know what had happened the night before. It was obvious that after getting over her initial shock, Dominique had decided that the story was hilarious, so naturally all girls here were informed and it didn't take long for Rhea to realize that the event was becoming more vivid with each retelling, right in front of her.

"Did you really shoot them with a flame from your wand?" Ariadne Lancaster demanded.

"Actually, it came from a stick that Roxanne's father – " Rhea tried to explain, but Corinne Johnston interrupted her.

"I heard Louis Weasley fall downstairs?"

"No, he – "

"Was he as gorgeous as he used to be?"

This time, Rhea blinked – the question had caught her off her guard. "I – I don't know – was he? I mean, did he use to be?"

Athena and the other girls stared at her, as if she had just grown another head. "You don't think he's – handsome?" Athena finally managed.

Suddenly, Rhea felt angry. She knew that she was different than most women without them rubbing it in her face! "Well," she snapped, "it was hard to judge when I was trembling with fear that I might have killed him!"

An astounded silence followed and Rhea felt very stupid. Then, the questions exploded again all around her and she felt even more stupid. The strange thing was, she didn't mind. _Mother and Father weren't right, _she thought_. To be stupid from time to time is not necessarily a bad thing._

Five minutes later, she was almost of the end of the story of the last night events. "And I should really think that no thief would carry grocery bags, especially as big as those, but I don't – and then Dominique emerges and I say something really intelligent, like 'Oh, so he's not a thief, if he's with you?"

There was more laughter at that. Rhea felt her own mouth stretching in a wide grin.

"I'm glad to see all of you using your work time to discuss important matters about cosmetics and designing, girls," Roxanne's voice suddenly came. No one had heard her coming, or entering, since she hadn't bothered to knock. She had just come out all of a sudden, like a thunder-cloud waiting to pour all over them. Her dark skin had become sickly yellow, the skin of her face stretched over bones that lacked any flesh. She seemed suddenly aged beyond her years. Probably, she had had another quarrel with her soon-to-be-ex-husband. Everyone in the room – except for Rhea – knew that Roxanne in a foul mood was not something they especially wanted to face and even Rhea realized it immediately. So, they scattered, everybody hurrying over to deal with their tasks. Athena and Rhea worked in silence for a few hours, when a child's voice made them look at the door.

"Is it you?"

The two women looked at the little blond-haired boy standing at the door and then they looked at one another. The kid was staring straight at Rhea. "Is it you?" he asked again.

"Is it me what?"

"Is it you who tried to kill my Dad?"

She stared at him. "What? No! I – "

The next moment, Louis Weasley stepped inside and smiled. "Hello, my little murderer."

Rhea couldn't help herself – she laughed. Here, at the broad daylight, it seemed so impossible that last night she had thought the man a criminal. His resemblance to Dominique and Victoire was striking – and to the little boy who grinned at her, revealing a missing tooth. "My name is Arthur," he introduced himself.

"I am Rhea," she said, "and this is Athena."

He grinned again and looked at his father. "She doesn't look like a murderer," he said.

Louis raised an eyebrow. "Doesn't she?"

Arthur shook his head, looking very serious. "Murderers should look scruffy," he informed them, "and they should have dark masks. They should be dressed in black and look slightly mad – "

Rhea blinked, Athena laughed, and Louis shook his head. "You're watching too many cartoons," he told his son. "Maybe I should get rid of the TV."

"You've got a TV?" Rhea was fascinated. She had heard about this Muggle device and when she'd been little, she had even asked her parents to get her one. Of course, they had been too conservative to even consider it.

Arthur nodded energetically. "You can visit us and I'll show you!" he invited, beaming at her. After all, if they had a visitor who had come specially to watch TV, his Dad wouldn't get rid of it, right?

"That's enough," Louis said. "Go to the café and order a pastry, Ugly."

"Oh!" Rhea's indignation overcame her shyness. "He's beautiful, simply beautiful."

"I am not!" Arthur exclaimed, indignant, and Louis smirked.

"You hurt his pride," he said.

"I do?" She was bemused. In her book, paying a compliment to someone should flatter him, not insult him. But maybe little boys were different, what did she know?

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

_At the same time…_

"We're not opening the door," Dominique muttered. She was sprawled on the sofa with her feet high, feeling exhausted. Victoire was sitting at her sister's desk with her head on the plot. Roxanne was pacing around the room. All three of them were tired – it had been a busy morning and now they were being interrupted even during their lunch interval.

"We're not opening it," Dominique whispered again, when the second knock came.

"We aren't here," Roxanne agreed.

Victoire started to rise to her feet, but her cousin pushed her back and covered her mouth with her palm. The knocking became a thunderous pounding and a rasp high-pitched voice came from the outside, "Open the door! Dom! Roxy! I know you're in there! Let me in!"

Roxanne ran to the door and when she opened it, Lucy Weasley Hunter stumbled in and almost falling down. "Mummy!" her five-year-old daughter exclaimed, clutching her hand more tightly.

"I'm okay, love," Lucy said hurriedly.

But she was obviously _not_ okay. Her brown hair was carefully done. She was immaculately dressed in green trousers and white blouse, her lipstick was skillfully applied, her nails long and red. But despite her finesse, she emanated the sense of almost hysterical concern. Her big sunglasses were in sharp contrast with the discreet elegance of her attire.

"Why have you donned these?" Roxy asked and forced a smile. "They are practically obscuring your features from view!"

Lucy startled, as if she had forgotten about the glasses, and took them off.

It was only now that her cousins noticed the maniac gleam in her eyes and smeared make-up that, despite the beauty of her features, made her look like a vampire.

"Adel," Victoire told the girl, "do you want to go to the first floor? You'll find Arthur there."

The little girl happily obliged and left.

"Don't worry," Dominique said, "we've cast a spell that no one under nine years of age can leave the building alone."

Lucy nodded.

"But what happened, Lucy?" Victoire asked. "I thought you and Adel were in Edinburgh with Greg. Where is he? Is he with you?"

Lucy shook her head and Roxanne led her to a chair. "What happened?"

"We had to come to London by airplane and – "

"You've traveled by plane?!" Roxanne gasped, but immediately checked herself. "I'll pour you something to drink and you, Lucy, sit here and tell us what happened.

"Finally, we went by taxi in SoHo. I thought of trying to Apparate, but given the way I am now, I feared that I would split us apart somewhere, so I decided that we should travel the Muggle way. I couldn't use the Floo lines."

"Why – " Dominique started, sitting up, but her sister shushed her.

"But we didn't have any Muggle money left, so this taxi driver was the only one who agreed to take us gratis here."

"And - ?"

"Nothing. He just drove us near Diagon-Alley and we cane here."

"First, explain what you were doing in SoHo, of all places!"

"I needed time to think. I waited for Greg to leave for work, then grabbed Adel and headed for the airport. When we arrived here, I took the first taxi I saw and told the driver to wander about. He did so and soon after that, we reached SoHo. I and Adel got off, because I thought it wouldn't be bad to walk around. I bought the glasses from a vendor, because I found out that I had lost mine. I suppose he spent the money on drug or something like that. I had no Galleons, just some Muggle money, and – "

"I don't believe it!" Dominique said in amazement. "You bargained over these glasses with a street urchin who only wanted to dope himself? You, Percy Weasley's daughter!"

"Let her tell the rest of it," Roxanne said and handed Lucy her drink.

She took the glass, sipped at it and said in unnaturally polite, reproachful voice, "Can I have a little ice, please? You know I can drink only iced drinks!"

"Oh Merlin, she's not all here!" Victoire groaned. "Please go on!"

"Go on… go on… well, I found out that I had lost my purse in the taxi."

"That's impossible! You should have taken it out to pay for the glasses," Roxanne protested, giving her back the glass, this time with pieces of ice in it.

Lucy grabbed it and sipped thirstily a few times. "I don't know, you're probably right, but the fact is that my black velvet purse isn't here. Dad gave it to me a year ago! Now he'll be mad at me and – "

"And what is he going to do? Beat you?" Dominique asked.

"Leave her alone! Drop this purse, Lucy," Victoire said, trying to calm everyone down. "Why didn't you use the special bus?"

"I didn't want my mum to hear about this, Just think about what she would have told me, if she knew I was roaming around SoHo. And Dad would probably send me to prison for pocket-picking!"

"Yes, yes, I understand," Roxanne soothed her, but she felt faint with fear: Lucy looked like a lunatic! "Still, I don't understand why you thought you should tell your parents. You could just stop here. Or Accio the purse. Besides, you could just take a Muggle taxi again, we would have paid the driver!"

"I didn't think of it! But why are you pouncing upon me like this?"

"Lucy, no one is pouncing upon you," Victoire soothed. "We only want to help you. Are you drunk? Or what?"

Louis entered the room, before his cousin had had the chance to answer. "What's going on here? I saw Adel and – " He noticed Lucy and the state she was in and blinked. "Are you okay, Lucy? I didn't know you intended to come here."

"She went to SoHo by taxi," Dominique explained. "By the way, there's no point in asking why! Thus far, we know she hailed a taxi because she wanted to think over something, then got off and realized she'd lost her purse. She had no money for taxi. Now we hope to learn what happened from this point on."

"I won't go back even if you force me! I want another drink, please!"

"Of course! Louis, would you make her something?" Victoire commanded. "Of course you won't go back," she assured her cousin. "Why on earth would you think we'd send you to SoHo, of all places?"

"I don't mean SoHo!"

"Then what do you mean?"

"If I tell you, will you promise not to tell anyone?"

"Of course, do you need to ask? Are we telling someone, Roxy, Dom? Louis?"

"No way," they all vowed.

"I'm not going back to Edinburgh, I'm not going back to my life there, I'm not going back to him… Never to Greg, never again!"

Her cousins exchanged glances. It was unusual for their so calm Lucy to let herself be broken down like this by a family quarrel, but then, people could always surprise you.

"What happened?" Dominique asked.

Lucy hesitated. "If you lock the door, I will show you."

Louis pointed his wand at the door and when he had sealed it closed and looked at his cousin, he received a shock: Lucy was taking her trousers and then her blouse down. The other four were so astounded that at the beginning, they didn't notice the purple marks that crossed the creamy skin.

"Oh Merlin!" Dominique groaned, when she finally realized that it hadn't been an ordinary marital quarrel.


	5. Chapter 5

_Disclaimer: All is Jo's._

Thanks for your lovely reviews, it means a lot that you like this story enough to tell me so.

Chapter 5

For a moment, no one was able to say anything. Then Victoire went to Lucy and hugged her, careful not to touch the red lash marks or the yellow-purplish bruises, Dominique only stared, Roxanne cursed under her breath, and Louis inhaled deeply. "When did it happen, Lucy?" Victoire asked.

Lucy's mouth twitched. "Yesterday night. Under the elegant costume I left Edinburgh in, my body looked this way – "

"You mean - ?" Roxanne started in a hoarse whisper.

"Did Mr Charm did that?" Louis asked, disbelieving, because for all his not-too-fond attitude towards Greg, he still could not believe his eyes.

"Yes, it was Mr Charm himself!" Lucy giggled hysterically. Roxanne thought she had never heard a more disgusting sound, and Louis repeated Roxy's earlier curse.

"Come on," he said, "let us have a look at you."

Victoire released Lucy from her embrace and they started examining her. "Nothing too bad," Louis decided, "I don't think she has broken bones or anything, but we cannot be sure," he said. "Anyway, you should lie down and try to relax for five minutes. I'll enlarge the sofa, so it could fit both of you, Dom," he added, looking at his sister.

She shook her head. "Nonsense. I'm very well. Come here, Lucy, and lie down," she added, pointing her wand at the sofa to turn it into a lovely bed with flower-embroided cover. Lucy obediently snuggled in its soft depths and Louis said he would go and fetch her some warm milk to drink and meanwhile, throw a look at the kids.

"I'll come with you," Dominique suggested and they went out together.

Dominique was seething with anger, her weariness completely forgotten. Anyway, she forced a smile, when they entered the café on the ground floor and Arthur and Adel looked at them, beaming. She smiled at them and noticed that they had no intention of joining them. Instead, they were chatting with some of the girls – women, who were supposed to be working, not having fun, but given the circumstances, Dominique was quite relieved that the children had something to occupy their minds with. She was well aware that to their employees, mostly young childless women, children resembled pets – loveable, funny and adorable. The girls were fascinated with them and liked playing with them like they were dolls, making them laugh and indulging them. Arthur and Adel made lovely objects of their curious interest, since they were very beautiful children, as well as very lively ones. Even Rhea Walters had been unable to resist them, Dominique saw, shocked. Their newest employee sat on the table next to Arthur and obviously was telling him some story that made him stare at her, hardly waiting to hear the end of it. She was smiling, her head inclined to one side, so that her face with porcelain English skin was unevenly lit by the pale winter sunrays streaming through the windows and she looked younger and vibrant, as if someone had set a window ajar and it had become obvious that something was shining inside. "She should get rid of the hair," Dominique muttered, momentarily forgotten about Lucy's distress. Rhea could look so much better and attractive, if only she knew how to make use of what she had. Well, Dominique would take care of that, when they became a bit closer.

By an unspoken agreement, she and Louis didn't say anything about their cousin's troubles, while they waited for the warm milk and cacao that they wanted to buy.

Louis looked at Arthur and Rhea. "I am not sure it's fair of me to foist him on her," he said contritely, but his sister dismissed his remorse.

"She doesn't seem unhappy to me," she said.

"I thought you wanted your girls to work, not babysit."

She shrugged. "Right now, I don't mind if they distract the kids from what's going on." For a moment, she tensed with anger at the thought of 'Mr Charm', but her voice didn't betray anything. Instead, she smiled and went on, "Vicki and I drag one kid or another here ever so often and they always have someone willing to have fun with them. The girls are amused and happy to play with them. The bad thing here is that at the end of the day, they return _other_ kids to us – overindulged and whiny ones."

Louis laughed.

They took the drinks and carried them upstairs, but before they reached Dominique's office, she dragged him over to Roxanne's, which was empty. Her smiling mask had fallen to reveal a face, contorted with fury. Louis sighed and placed the tray that he was Levitating in front of him on the table. He knew what would follow.

"I think we're making a mistake by putting poor Lucy in bed. The only thing we saw were the bruises on her body and there is no way of knowing that there aren't any internal injuries. If we want to take proper care of her, we should take her to St. Mungo's, where they can make a full examination of her."

"I thought we could call Caroline to have a look at her. She's the best qualified person to judge whether she should be taken to the hospital or not."

"But what if she has an internal bleeding? Then even Caroline's judgment might be late!"

Louis smiled with tight lips. "Don't be melodramatic, Dom! Put the bruises aside and even I can see that the real trauma is not to Lucy's body, but to her heart. The only thing that she needs now is what we can provide: safety and peace. Caroline will give her some Muggle salves or whatever she feels Lucy needs and we'll let her rest."

"But why should we risk, when it's so easy to bring her to the hospital right now?"

"Listen, Dom, I know exactly what you're trying to achieve!" Louis cut her off. "You'd love to see Lucy in St. Mungo's, where there are hundred of peoples. You want everyone there to see her and tell their visitors about that, the reporters hunting for the story and so on, until everyone, even the blind people, knows for sure that Lucy Weasley Hunter was beaten black and blue. Did you stop for a moment to think is it going to do any good to her?"

"Of course it will! Just think, if this story goes into the public spotlight, she can hope for a quick divorce. That asshole won't be able to play the Prince Charming. He's going to be finished."

"Yes, of course. And let me ask you again, what good is that to Lucy? Or to Adel? Do you think Lucy will be happy for her daughter to grow up as the kid of a women-beater?"

"Oh." Dominique deflated. "I didn't think about that."

"So I thought," Louis said. "Make no mistake, Dom, I am not telling that she should go back to him even he drops on his knees. If he had beaten her once, he'll do it again. I just don't think we should make it a public knowledge."

Dominique looked at him wonderingly. "How it come that you're so rational, Lou?" she asked.

He grinned. "Well, I had no other option. You and Vicki are the emotional ones. Someone _has_ to be the voice of reason."

Unfortunately, Lucy did not agree with their idea to call Caroline Weasley, Hugo's wife, who was a Muggle doctor. "No! No Healers and no doctors!"

"But why, Lucy?" Victoire asked. "We have to be sure you're fine and Caroline is discreet, you know that."

"That's right, Lucy," Roxanne agreed. "Caroline is great. She's willing to listen to everyone, we – "

"No!"

"I don't want to hear any 'no's!" Louis intervened harshly. "It's either she or the hospital – choose!"

"But I don't hurt anymore and I'm sure I've got no broken bones. It's just some superficial bruises. I don't want any Healers and I sure as hell won't go to the hospital! I did it once, when I thought my arm was broken, and then Greg almost trashed me to death again, before I could explain I hadn't told anything to the Healers. I was able to convince them that I'd fallen down the stairs."

Shocked by the revelation that the beating wasn't a first time thing, Victoire and Dominique exchanged a look and Roxanne slumped on the bed beside her cousin. Louis only shook his head. "Has it really happened before, Lucy?" he finally asked.

The answer was clear and Roxanne groaned.

"How many times?" Louis asked.

No answer.

"How many?" Louis refused to let the matter rest,

"I don't know – twenty, thirty – But as early as the first time, when my left eye was completely shut and my lips were so swollen that I could hardly talk and he didn't know enough spells to place a sufficient Glamour charm over them – and even if he had managed to hide my facial bruises, I still wouldn't have been able to talk – he stopped hitting me on the face."

_He stopped hitting me on the face…_

There was a short pause, before her cousins could comprehend what her words meant. The image of the tall, tanned Greg filled the room – Greg, with his strength and well-developed muscles hitting the small trembling Lucy, but retaining enough self-control to spare her face – and all parts of her body that her clothes would not hide from view. That was even more revolting than the beating itself. It made the collapse of Roxanne's marriage look like an insignificant, minor inconvenience.

"Hold on!" Victoire finally said. "I want to build a complete picture. You're saying that he thrashes you, but he coolly doesn't forget to hit you only where no one will see the bruises, right?"

"And only when he's sure Adel isn't in the house!" Lucy wept.

"That bastard!" Louis burst out. "That slimy pervert bastard! I'm going to kill him!"

Dominique embraced the weeping Lucy and shared a horrified look with her siblings and cousin. They were all trying not to ask the obvious question, _"But why didn't you leave him earlier, Lucy?"_

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

_Half an hour later…_

Adel was sitting on a chair that Athena had conjured for her, looking through fashion magazines, admiring the photos and trying to make sense of what the texts read, but at her age of five, her reading skills were not that great. Arthur was playing with the dancing Pegasus that his new friend, Rhea, had given him, and the two women were working.

"I can't believe this!" someone said from the opened door. "No, I can't."

Arthur looked at the newcomers and put his fingers to his lips. "Hush. Rhea is _working_."

Hugo Weasley, red-haired and freckled like his father, grinned and mimicked performing a Silencing Charm on himself. "I'll be as quiet as a mouse," he mouthed.

Athena turned her head. "Oh hi, Caroline," she said. "Nice to see you. You too, Hugo."

"Hi, Athena," the young woman answered and smiled. "Who do I see? Is that Arthur? Sitting this quiet? And Adel, my little beauty. Come here, pet, and give your Aunt Caroline a kiss."

She was surprised to see her niece here – Louis hadn't told her much when he had Firecalled, so she did not know about Lucy's arrival, - but she hid it well. When she kissed Adel and Hugo lifted her high, Caroline looked at Rhea. "Hello," she said. "I'm Caroline Weasley, pleased to meet you."

"I am Rhea Walters," Rhea answered, and Athena added, "Rhea is our newest discovery."

"I know." Caroline smiled. "Roxy and Dom wouldn't shut up about her and Isabelle thinks she's her savior."

"She's everyone's savior," Athena assured her fervently.

While they were chatting, Rhea was trying to examine Caroline without making her curiosity too obvious. Since she had started reading the society columns of Daily Prophet, she had learned a lout about the Potter-Weasley clan and the gossip here provided her with even more information. She knew that Caroline Weasley had had a somewhat dark story with her then future husband and that she was a Muggle. A Muggle! Rhea's first Muggle.

Rhea had assumed that Muggle men and women married to wizard partners would feel as insecure and out of place in the wizarding world as she did and yet, Caroline didn't seem to feel either. She was chatting to the young witch in a friendly manner and seemed perfectly at ease around two children, who could literally set her afire, although accidentally, during a tantrum.

Caroline was dark-haired, beautiful and very stylish. She wore white jeans and a green pullover with elegance that not many women possessed. Her hair was held by a silver hair-slide, so her face, with its classical features and flawless skin, stood out. She reminded Rhea of someone who she couldn't quite remember.

"I must go," Caroline was saying. "See you on Friday, I've got an appointment with Corinne for my hairdo."

"See you later," everyone said, and Caroline and Hugo left. Again, Rhea tried to remember who Caroline reminded her of and failed.

Meanwhile, Caroline knocked at the door of Dominique's office. "Who is it?" Roxanne's voice called.

"It's me, Caroline."

"Come in."

Hugo held the door for his wife and followed her.

"_Lucy_?"

Victoire sighed. They had not expected that Hugo would be with Caroline when she got the message and that he would accompany her here. Lucy's secret was spreading faster than they had expected.

While Caroline was examining Lucy, Louis filled Hugo in and saw his own anger and disbelief reflected in his cousin's eyes. How had it come to that? Lucy and Greg had loved each other, he had been an exemplary husband.

Or so they had thought.

Caroline confirmed that Lucy's injuries were only superficial and gave her some of the pills that she had brought with her. Roxanne took that as a sign that her cousin was well enough for further inquiries.

"I can't make sense of one thing! How can this thoughtless idiot, drunk enough to beat you to death, to control himself and remember that he should spare your face?"

Lucy gasped, shocked. "Drunk? I never said such a thing! Greg doesn't drink, not even Butterbeer! I thought everyone knew that!"

"And what does that mean?" Hugo asked, furious. "He trashes you when he's completely sober! Do tell us what unforgivable crime had you committed to deserve this."

Lucy looked at them, confused. "That's the problem! I don't know why! At least, I'm not sure – " Her voice broke. When she started talking again, she seemed to be addressing herself and not them. "I've been thinking about that for a very long time – I've been wondering what I do to enrage him so, because if I know, I'll never, _ever_ do it again. Each time, he finds a new reason and I just don't have a way to know what will make him lose it." She smiled hesitantly, as if she was begging them to forgive her for her stupidity. "Sometimes it's a mere trifle. Once, I told him I didn't like his new robes and he jumped five feet high. He was ready to kill me. He took it and threw it over my head and started strangling me with it. Maybe I was too critical, and he's so sensitive to each reproach – "

"Oh Merlin, Lucy, you sound like you're trying to find an excuse for him!" Dominique exploded, her hormones, messed up by the pregnancy, intensifying her anger. "God, he's a monster, he's a sadistic idiot! What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Dom!" everyone protested.

"Leave her alone," Lucy said calmly. "I suppose I do sound like that, but that's because I can't think normally – "

She fell silent and so did everyone else.

"When did it start?" Louis suddenly asked.

"Two years ago – "

"That son of a bitch!" Hugo exclaimed. So, Greg had waited until he and Lucy had moved to Scotland to start beating her, humiliating her, depriving her from her normal thinking. He had waited until his wife's family was well away to start turning her into a beaten wife, so brainwashed that she even tried to find excuses for him. How clever of him.

"This time I won't come back, even if he begs me on his knees!" But Lucy sounded more depressed than determined.

"Of course you won't," Caroline soothed.

"Do you think Greg will come after her?" Hugo asked so low that Louis was the only one who heard him.

"I pray he does," Louis answered grimly. "That'll be the last time they see him alive."

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

_The same evening…_

This evening, Rhea came home earlier than usual – she had suddenly felt that she didn't want to work overtime, not today. She took a long bath, then made herself a supper and sat on the sofa with a book in her hand. She was filled with the feeling of satisfaction with the work that she had done and warmth, swelling inside her each time she thought about the little boy, Arthur Weasley, who had been so friendly with her. No one in her life had taken such a quick liking to her and besides, the boy was a real darling.

Real darling… that was what people had called her when she was very little.

Something made her stand up and go to the desk. From the inside, she took a big album and sat down to look at it for first time in years.

The first pictures were of her parents during their youth, the way she had never seen them. A smile crossed her face, when she saw their ridiculous, old-fashioned garments. However, they looked radiant with life and joy. And they were handsome.

Then, Rhea made the most shocking discovery. Caroline Weasley resembled Rhea's mother – they had similar delicate features, similar creamy skin and radiated the same elegance. Of course, their hair and clothing were different, but –

Rhea had been born in a well-to-do family of elderly people. At the time of her arrival, her father was fifty five-years old and her mother – ten years younger. They hadn't had children when young and they had thought they never would. But finally, God had taken pity on them and Rhea had arrived.

Her childhood was horrible. She was always watched over with tender care, first by her nanny and then by her governess and of course, her parents. In winter, the other kids ran around, throwing snowballs at one another and she could only watch them through the window. Her mother denied her children's entertainment, for her own good – after all, if she climbed trees, she would risk breaking her neck and if she ran around – her foot, no matter that it could be healed in seconds… Her parents took her safety and well being very seriously indeed. Her ice-cream should melt first, before she was allowed to eat it, her apples and oranges should be Scorgified and scalded, she was due to wash the floor of her room twice a day and yet, there was not a single children's disease that she had not caught… She was not allowed to attend Hogwarts, of course – she was not well enough for that, so she was home schooled. Since her delicate health needed to be carefully preserved, she was not allowed to interact with other children – they were negligent to hygiene, they didn't always washed their hands when they came home from their games, and – God forbid – they might have a cold or something that they might pass onto her. That rule was somewhat loosened in her teens, but by then, it was already too late. Her only entertainments were her books and her hobby – creating glass figurines and larger sculptures and making them do something with magic. And – oh joy! – she somehow persuaded her parents to let her take art classes.

Then, her parents started aging more and more quickly and she was engaged in taking care of them and their declining business. Life was as full as boring as ever – until it became worse. It occurred to her mother that her beloved daughter would soon turn thirty and there was no young man around. Well, where the hell was Rhea supposed to find him? She made visits only accompanied by her mother, she went to vacations only with her parents, and she had never found any friends! So, her mother started hunting for a suitable son in-law, not bothering to ask her daughter whether she wanted to get married or not. That was the only time when Rhea stood to her mother: she plainly told her to give up. She still had no idea where she had found the courage for that.

Then, her mother died and her father followed her a few years later. And here Rhea was, thirty-one years old, with great new job and nonexisting private life, staring at the young face of her mother and thinking of the Muggle woman who had somehow managed to fit in the wizarding world.

Suddenly, she stood up and went to the mirror. She resembled her mother, everyone said it, so she must resemble Caroline Weasley too. She pulled her hair back and her face stood up, like Caroline's had this afternoon. Her hair was plain brown, of course, not glossy black like Caroline's, but her face was not so ordinary now, when there was nothing hiding it. Her skin was smooth, her cheekbones – high. Why hadn't she noticed it before? Why hadn't she _looked_ for it?

She turned around and went to the fireplace. She needed to buy more Floo powder and she would do it tomorrow, but she didn't hesitate to use the last handful she had to make the connection that she had never made before.

Athena's face appeared in the flames and looked at her curiously. "Athena?" Rhea said, before she had had the time to rethink her decision, "would you make an arrangement with Corinne on my behalf? As soon as she has a free period between the procedures. I'm getting rid of my hair."


	6. Chapter 6

_Disclaimer: Still not rich. Still not famous. Still not owning Harry Potter._

**Sorry for having disappeared from this story for so long. I tried my luck with other fandoms, had little time for fanfiction at all, when I finally had it, I had a writer's block and so on. I know this is no excuse, but these are the facts.**

_As always, thanks for all your lovely reviews._

Chapter 6

_Two days later__…_

As soon as Rhea saw Corinne, she felt faint and her newfound determination faded. Why hadn't she noticed how scary the lilac-haired young woman was _before_ making the appointment? The hairdresser was as thin as a lath, her nails long and painted in black, her face set in the firm expression of a soldier before a battle. When she saw Rhea and Athena, she looked at them with her hands on her hips, as if she was planning an attack. If Rhea was going to make a major change in her looks, why hadn't she chosen a nice smiling old lady in a little cozy beuaty parlour? Why did she have to come here, where she knew that all the girls were no older than twenty-three, with frighteningly strong grasp and the habit of using whatever potions came in their way on their clients? What if she was allergic to some of the concocts? The parlour itself was reeking so strongly of ointments and lotions that she was bound to have a headache and a rash and suffocate. What was she doing here?

"I'd better go," she said, but Athena firmly clasped her hand.

"No way. Corinne is a genius. I swear it."

Rhea knew that, but that did not ease her fears.

"You'll feel like a new person," Athena assured her. "What?" she asked, when Rhea muttered something unintelligible.

"I was just saying that I was becoming to get accustomed to my old self. That's a mistake. Look, I'll pay Corinne, but – "

"Of course you will," Athena agreed cheerfully. "_After_ the procedure. Come on. You'll be grateful to me later. Trust me."

Rhea had no choice but trust her, for her friend was already guiding her past the numerous chairs, mirrors, glass-cases full of dozens luxurious products, past clients and hairdressers and right to the place where Corinne was waiting for them, her expression very much like that of a dragon waiting for its food.

"Sit down," she said and when Rhea did not react, the younger woman just pushed her on the chair. Now she was beaming at her, the change come just in seconds. "I've been dreaming of having you on this chair ever since you came," she said and Rhea stared helplessly.

"You have?"

Corinne pulled out her wand and magicked a cover for Rhea's clothes. "Yes. You've got pretty eyes."

Rhea blinked nervously. "Is that so?"

"Nice eyebrows, high cheekbones," Corinne added while Athena was taking a seat next to them. "Fine mouth. You need lipstick, though. We'll take care of that. Yes, a pretty face you've got. But old-fashioned and boring hair."

With a quick swish of her wand, she released Rhea's hair and sniffed disapprovingly. "Doesn't suit you at all. You're hiding behind your hair, Rhea. And I will show you to the world."

While she was still musing on the matter, Rhea realized that Corinne was washing her hair over a shining black wash-stand. When it occurred to her to ask about the composition of the shampoo, it was too late.

Then, she was again sitting on the chair, drinking a glass of some alcohol that she didn't recognize – her mother had implanted it in her head that a lady never drank any alcoholic beverages. _Any booze_, Rhea thought and giggled. That was the word Dominique used when she was on a roll of self-pity for not being able to drink anything stronger than pumpkin juice, for she did not want to give birth to a drunken baby. The touch of Corinne's hands and wand on her hair were surprisingly gentle and Rhea thought that she could fall asleep. Maybe it would be better if she did – at least this way she wouldn't be worried about having an allergic reaction to the unknown substances that were being used on her.

Of course, she should have expected that it wouldn't be so easy. Nothing in this building ever was. She heard the newcomer before she saw her.

"Get out of my hair."

"Of course," Victoire's voice replied. "As soon as we are over with the procedures."

"No. No procedures. I really don't have the time for arguing with you, Vic, but – "

Victoire's voice became louder as she approached. "You never have the time. Sorry for this, but we don't want you walking in the street, scaring the little children= You need some relaxing."

"Sure. I just don't need what _you_ call relaxing."

Roxanne's voice joined in the conversation, low, coaxing. "Come on, Rose, you're going to like it. You know it. I promise."

"To hell with your promises! I've got a report to finish until tomorrow morning and I still haven't even _started_ getting to the core of the matter – "

Her voice was getting louder. Only in a few seconds,, Rhea saw them – Victoire, Roxanne and a woman her own age. Compact, with freckled face and bushy red hair, she would have been attractive if not for the scowl that deformed her features. She angrily dropped in a chair in front of the mirror and Victoire immediately started working on her hair. Roxanne waved at Athena, Rhea and Corinne and sat next to the newcomer. The three of them immediately started a hushed conversation that seemed to change from a minor quarrel to something that really bothered them, if their concerned faces were something to go by.

Now fully awoken, Rhea could only talk to Athena and Corinne, try not to think of everything that might happen to her health thanks to these potions and the unknown spells used on her, and try to have a furtive glance in some of the mirrors around, since Corinne had completely blackened out the one in front of her, saying that she'd let Rhea see herself only after the end of the cosmetic procedures.

"You've got wonderful skin" Corinne said. "What do you use for it?"

"Right now, I'm using a new series that I read about. It's based on the simplest of potions, as natural as possible and – "

"We've got something better." She pointed her wand at the nearest glass-case. "Accio Charm Vital!"

"But I always test a new product before actually using it and – "

"Don't worry," Corinne assured her and pointed her wand back at Rhea, producing blue sparkles. "Just relax and close your eyes."

It was easier said than done. How was she supposed to relax with spells and charms flying all around her, a cream being rubbed in her face, unfamiliar smells assaulting her nose, and a whispered conference being held only a few meters away?

Corinne somehow convinced her to let her reshape her eyebrows and dye them. After her hair was rinsed, she wearily gave consent for full make-up being applied to her face. At the time when Corinne finally Vanished the cover fro her clothes, she was so exhausted that she felt she could fall asleep right there in the chair.

She was in full agreement with Rose's muffled comment that whoever said that spending a whole afternoon at the hairdresser's in a luxury must have been deranged.

"Open your eyes," Corinne ordered, but Rhea was so light-headed that at first, she didn't make sense of the words. Only when she heard them again, she looked at Corinne, unable to believe that it was finally over.

The younger woman smiled at her. "Open your eyes," she said for a third time, "and see the new Rhea Walters."

Rhea turned to the mirror that was suddenly bright and shining again, and couldn't believe her eyes.

Where had she gone to?

The woman staring back at her had a cascade of shining highlighted hair drawn back to reveal a face with flawless skin, finely curved eyebrows and huge eyes, surrounded by long lashes. Her mouth was wide and bright red. When Rhea shook her head in disbelief, the woman did the same.

"I look like – " She couldn't finish, so constricted was her throat. She looked well. Perfectly well. She had never thought that about herself before. She wasn't beautiful, but she wasn't ordinary either. She looked nice and attractive. She was even pretty.

Corinne was grinning in the mirror. "I told you so."

Suddenly three other faces appeared in the mirror: Athena, Victoire, and Roxanne were smiling and offering congratulations.

"If we had taken pictures before and after the procedures, we could easily use them for our advertising," Victoire said seriously. "Too bad I didn't think about that in time."

"I feel strange," Rhea admitted, shaking her head. For first time since she could remember she didn't feel the weight of her long hair. "Lighter." She laughed. "But I don't look like myself."

"Oh but you do," Corinne assured her. "Or at least, you could, if you only have wish and will to keep it this way."

Rhea stared at the reflections in the mirror. Victoire, the undisputed beauty queen – not attractive, not charming, not any of these words many people used so nonchalantly. Simply beautiful. Roxanne, her cousin's full contrast in colour and demeanor, sunny and magnetic to the eye like a colourful butterfly. Corinne, radiating the negligent charm that young people nowadays so often exuded. For first time, Rhea did not feel strange and out of place in their midst. The feeling was incredible.

"I'll buy everything you used on me today," she said. "And I want a new appointment in four weeks."

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

_Ten minutes later…_

She had left a fourth of her salary in the beauty parlour. A fourth of all means she had, spend just on vanity. And she did not feel guilty because of that. She felt ecstatic and exciting. She even carried the shopping bags in her hands rather than Levitating them with her wand to her office. It was like their weight could somehow convince her that her transformation was real, that it _had_ happened.

Lost in her happiness, she almost bumped into a tall, attractive olive-skinned man who had just entered through the front door. "Sorry," she apologized. "Can I help you?"

For a moment, he stared at her, as if he was trying to remember something. "Do you work here?"

"I do," she said, smiling. "My name is Rhea Walters. What can I do for you?"

"I am Gregory Hunter," he said. "My wife, Lucy, is Victoire and Dominique's cousin. She arrived in London a few days ago. I wondered whether you knew where she was."

She did know. News traveled fast in _Glamour_ and by now, everyone knew that Lucy was staying with her cousin Roxanne in her house. She was just about to tell Mr Hunter that, when something made her change her mind. In this afternoon, she had heard the name Greg more than once in the hushed conversation between the three cousins – Victoire, Roxanne, and Rose Malfoy. They were cautious not to talk too loud, but whenever one of them mentioned the name, it was with an angry hiss and livid expression. Whatever the reason, Gregory Hunter was not liked here and she probably shouldn't give away any information. She changed her mind mid-word.

"Ye – no."

He raised an eyebrow. "Was that 'yes', or 'no'?"

"No."

"You mean you don't know where my wife is?"

"I don't," Rhea declared.

"I thought otherwise."

She raised her chin defiantly. "You thought wrong."

"Did I?" he asked softly. He was a good judge of character and beyond her glamour and defiance, he could see that she was not accustomed to being confronted with someone who knew that she had spoken an outright lie. She was not comfortable with it. If he pressed her a little harder, he could get what he want.

"Yes."

"Are you sure?"

"Leave her alone, Greg."

With a silent curse, Greg Hunter turned around to face his new interlocutor, more his match. James Potter stared at him with such cold fury that Greg knew: the game was over. Lucy had went crying to her family and sprouted nonsense about what a lousy husband he was and how he beat her. Without mentioning about the things she did to deserve it, of course.

Rhea felt immensely relieved. As unaccustomed as she was to loud quarrels, she was even more inexperienced in dealing with quiet strength of pressure, especially when she knew that she was in the wrong – she had told a lie and the man she had been talking to knew that. She felt so uncomfortable with herself that every distraction for him was welcome to her, even if this distraction was James Potter, who she had met a few times after their first humiliating meeting. She had never found the strength to tell him more than a few formal words and he seemed to respect her wishes. Now, though, he looked at her and smiled. For first time, Rhea smiled at him too. With these smiles, it felt as if they were apologizing to one another. Maybe she would never come to like him as she liked his cousin Fred, but she did not dislike him anymore.

She nodded thanks and went to her office, deliberately making her steps slow, so it would not appear that she was running away.

James and Greg stared at each other. "You really have quite the nerves, coming here," James said, "after what you did."

"I want to talk to Lucy."

"_She_ doesn't want to talk to _you_."

"Tell me where she is."

"She's going to find you when she decides that she wants to. Until then, Hunter, you'd better stay the hell away from us, if you want to keep your hide intact. Go back to your nice office at Scotland and good riddance."

"I'm not leaving until I can talk to Lucy."

"I think you will," a new voice cut in. "Whether you'd leave on your own two feet, or on a stretcher is up to you."

Behind James, three men appeared. Louis Weasley. Hugo Weasley. Albus Potter. All with their wands drawn, all looking infuriated.

"Well," Greg said and even managed a laugh, "what a scene only! The great and mighty Weasleys. The purebloods and the half-breed – undisputable talents with wands, fists and knees - all lined up in front of me. If you think you can actually do something to me and get away with it, because you are Weasleys, you'd better think again."

"Get out," Louis said. "Get out before we make you!"

Despite his bragging, Greg knew that he was heavily outnumbered. It was the best move to retreat. For now. "I'll be back," he said and left.

"I'll be waiting," Hugo cried after him.

When they were alone, the cousins looked at each other. "He didn't even give us a fight," Albus said. "With Lucy, he could be as powerful as he wants, but he wouldn't even try us. Typical for a man who show off at home. How Lucy could like him, is beyond me."

"Well, I suppose he can be charming to women," James mused. "He almost managed to charm Rhea Walters into telling him where Lucy was. But not quite. This girl has a good head on her shoulders."

"And a pretty one," Hugo said. "I saw her at the door. She looks fabulous. It's amazing what a little make-up and the right hairstyle could do for a woman."

"Well," James agreed, "she _is_ kind of cute if you like brunettes."

Hugo grinned. "Why, don't you like them?"

"Jillian doesn't permit me," James replied. "Come on, let's go and find the girls."


End file.
